


In Search of Intimacy

by phoenixwings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 09, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asexual Castiel, Asexual Character, Castiel in the Bunker, Hand Jobs, Human Castiel, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-16 23:15:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5844754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixwings/pseuds/phoenixwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b> Intimacy</b>,<i> noun</i>. Close familiarity, closeness; an intimate act. </p>
<p>Dean’s a sexual person, Castiel isn’t . . . but in the end it turns out they want the same thing after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Search of Intimacy

**Author's Note:**

> **Note:** This fic contains a scene of an asexual character in a consensual, discussed sexual situation. The way that Castiel *chooses* to engage in sexual intimacy should not be read as an attempt to negate his orientation, but simply a scene of *one* particular character making *one* particular choice. 
> 
> Takes place at the beginning of an alternate season 9.

Traveling without wings or a car had proved to be more difficult than Castiel had originally expected. It took him days hitchhiking to get as close as he could to Kansas. He ran out of options in Oklahoma and finally broke his resolve and called Dean, who picked him up at a park a day later in Norman. Perhaps it was his exhaustion, or his new and overwhelming human emotions, but when he saw Dean again Castiel kissed him before realizing what he had done.

Castiel had been so sure he had ruined everything, but as he stuttered out an apology Dean had just chuckled and told him not to be sorry. Then, Dean had kissed him back, and suddenly Castiel had to reevaluate everything he had assumed about his new human life. He had always thought his affection for Dean to have been one-sided.

That day in the park had been three weeks ago, and in the past few weeks Castiel didn’t know if he had ever felt such a whirlwind of emotions. There were moments of exhilaration, when Dean would take his hand and squeeze or kiss him first thing in the morning. There were moments of quieter affection, too, when Dean taught him the finer points of being human, like how to make coffee and scramble eggs. Those were the positive emotions — then there were the more tumultuous ones. There had been the nervous worry Castiel had felt when Dean stumbled through explaining their changed relationship to Sam, and the more obvious apprehension when they were in public together. There were a few times, late at night, that they had exchanged harsh words. Every time, Castiel would wonder if he had managed to unravel their fragile relationship already. Every time, though, after they both got some sleep, they would talk about it. Actually talk, even though Castiel could tell Dean wasn’t always comfortable with being so forthcoming with his feelings.

Still, Castiel was happier than he could have imagined being as a human. His adjustment wasn’t easy, but he didn’t regret the road that lead him to falling if it lead him to this — Dean making coffee for him in the morning and then fighting the evil in the world together, as they had done for years.

Sometimes Dean would kiss him randomly, swift and chaste, and then just grin at him. A few times they had traded long, deep kisses while lying down on Dean’s bed or the couch. Castiel had his own room in the bunker, but more often than not he would fall asleep in Dean’s bed. Dean never seemed to mind.

Their physical exploration of each had yet to go much past that. Dean would sometimes slip his hands under Castiel’s shirt and rub his back between his shoulder blades and down to his hips, but he’d kept all touches above the waist so far. Castiel liked the pace they had set up, and he thought he’d be perfectly content to have every day end like that.

Castiel sighs happily as Dean kisses down his neck. They had returned from a case earlier than expected — a fairly simply haunting — and had managed to destroy the ghost without a single casualty. Castiel knew how rare those days were, so he treasured it. It felt good to be back in the bunker, though. When they’d returned Castiel had napped on the bed while Dean took a shower, and was awaken by Dean pulling him into a firm embrace. Castiel found he didn’t mind.

Dean brings his hands down and rest them on Castiel’s hips. He hooks his thumb into the waistband of the sweatpants Castiel picked out from Dean’s closet earlier. Comfortable clothing is definitely one of the better things about being human. He had never realized how uncomfortable his ill-fitting suit was until he could feel it. Dean rubs small circles across the skin and looks up at him.

“Cas? This okay?” Dean gives one side of the sweatpants a gentle tug, not enough to pull them off but enough to leave a few inches of Castiel’s hip exposed to the cool air, and enough to make it clear what Dean is asking.

Castiel considers the request. They’d be taking it slow, but Castiel had expected them to get to this point eventually. He trusts Dean, explicitly, but there’s a small knot of anxiety in his stomach. He thought he’d feel more excited by the prospect, but the exhilaration is missing. He’s not afraid, exactly— he’s gone up against angels and demons, so his tolerance for fear is high — but there’s some apprehension.

Dean waits for the answer, smiling softly and still tracing patterns into Castiel’s skin. Castiel can’t imagine experiencing this with anyone else, and he’s curious about the experience and the pleasure that so many seem to derive from sexual relationships. He nods and reaches down to pull his sweatpants and boxers off the rest of the way. Dean pulls back a little and starts kissing down his stomach, and Castiel finds he likes it more than he thought he would. His nudity doesn’t feel awkward in front of Dean, even though the other man is still half-dressed. Dean continues to place his mouth all over Castiel’s torso, stopping every once in a while to look at Castiel. His expression is so awed, and Castiel doesn’t know what he did to deserve Dean looking at him like that. He realizes his apprehension has faded and he’s aroused.

Then Dean reaches for his cock, and Castiel reflexively jerks back from Dean’s sure hand and curls in on himself.

He’d wanted to try this, but as much as he trusts Dean, he realizes he doesn’t want this. He turns his head and buries it into the pillow as much as he can.

“Cas?”

Castiel takes a deep breath and tries to even his hitched breathing. He feels Dean’s hands on his hips again and he begins to shy away until he realizes that Dean is pulling his boxers back up. He’d somehow managed to forget he was completely naked.

Castiel reluctantly lifts his head from the pillow to see that Dean is gazing at him warily.

“Hey, you okay?” Dean asks softly.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel mumbles. Dean shakes his head.

“It’s cool. You didn’t want to. You okay, though?”

Castiel sits up and lets his back rest against the headboard of Dean’s bed. “I thought I did. I mean, I thought I wanted to try. I didn’t expect to feel so . . . vulnerable.”

“Yeah, well, you’re new to being human, new to this,” Dean gestures between them.

“I’m still getting used to this being my body, I think, instead of it being just one that I . . . rent.”

Dean makes a noise of acknowledgment, so Castiel takes that as a cue to continue speaking. “I don’t know if I feel sexual desire the same way you do. It’s not that I’m opposed to the idea or not curious, I just don’t feel any particular need to experience it, either.”

“Guess angels don’t have sexual desire, then?”

“Hardly,” Castiel replies dryly, “You remember Balthazar. I believe this is just me, angel or human.”

“Right. Skeevy bastard. Well, you know me,” Dean chuckles, but there’s no mirth in it, “Kinda known for the sleeping around, so I can’t say that completely get it. And it was fun, and I don’t regret most of it — ‘cept that goddamn monster baby — but I’d, uh, I’d . . . damn it, I’d still rather have you.”

_I’d rather have you, cursed or not_ echoes in Castiel’s mind. He relaxes again. “Sex or no sex?”

Dean exhales. “Yeah.”

Castiel glances down. “And if I do decide? That I want to try. . . or that I don’t?”

Dean shrugs. “Never, maybe, doesn’t matter. Like I said, I’d rather have you.”

“I’d rather have you too,” Castiel says, and it’s true — but he’s not sure it conveys the same meaning. Dean is the only person he’s ever developed romantic feelings for, and the course his life has taken since that initial meeting in hell seems inevitable in hindsight. He hasn’t had the same options Dean has, hasn’t even been the same species for the vast majority of his life. Dean wraps an arm around him and it’s nice, of course it is, but Castiel also can’t help the thoughts tumbling in his mind that keep him from sleep.

* * *

 

Castiel can feel Dean growing aroused as they press against each other. Castiel remembers the short end of their last attempt at physical intimacy a few weeks ago, but he hasn't mentioned to Dean something else he's been curious about trying. 

He moves his hands downward and places a light palm where he can feel Dean’s erection underneath the denim. Dean’s eyes fly open and he pulls back from their kiss, panting a little and his face clouded with confusion.

“Cas?”

“I want to try something. If you want.”

“Cas we don’t have to—” Castiel cuts him off with a quick kiss.

“I know,” Castiel replies, “I want to try, though.”

Dean gazes at him, his body going still. It’s a look he’s seen pass over Dean’s face before, but not in a long time.

“I don’t want you do to anything because you think you have to,” Dean says, jutting his chin forward. They’ve had a few more conversations about this — all of this — since that night a few weeks ago, and Dean has always stressed this.

“I know,” Castiel repeats, “but just because I didn’t want to receive sexual contact doesn’t mean I would mind giving it. Dean, I know you don’t want to do anything that I don’t want to do of my own volition, just as I would never want that for you, so I promise you can trust me when I say I want to try something. You don’t need to coddle me.” Castiel pauses as he tries to decide on how to convey the rest of his thoughts. He may have inhabited this body for many years, but the intense feelings that came along with being human were still new. Castiel marveled at both the potential and limitations of his physical form, and there was still so much he had yet to learn about it.

“Cas?” Dean prompts, because he can tell Castiel hasn’t finished his thought.

“It’s. . .” Castiel frowns. “Being human is different. There is much I still don’t know or understand about myself now. I’m still learning. While I don’t have desire in the same way that you do, I do want to try this.”

“Okay,” Dean agrees then, a little breathless from their conversation and his arousal. Castiel makes quick work of the rest of Dean’s clothing. He’s seen Dean naked before, of course — when he remade him after Hell — but that time it was built out of purpose. This time is for want and desire, and though he doesn’t desire Dean in exactly the same way Dean desires him, there’s something about this situation that makes Castiel’s heart beat a little faster, in a good way.

Dean gazes at him so openly that Castiel is slightly taken aback. Already, he can tell this is going better than when Dean tried to do the same thing to him. He reaches for Dean’s cock, tentatively at first to see if he has the same averse reaction to touching Dean as he did to being touched, but it never happens. Dean’s breathing stutters a little and Castiel grips him firmer.

He’s not skilled at this, and he knows he fumbles, but he tries to read the cues of Dean’s body as best he can. Dean places a hand on his own, firm enough to guide but not tight, until Castiel gets the hang of it. It’s easier after that, and once Castiel sets a good rhythm he looks up to Dean’s face, watching his expression the entire time. He likes watching Dean respond, likes the small blissful noises Dean makes. It might not fill him with the same desire that Dean has, but Castiel still finds it satisfying to know that Dean is reacting like that because of him.

Dean arches his back and moans Castiel’s name when he orgasms. Castiel joins Dean on the bed again then, who smiles at him, sleepy and affectionate.

“Was that enjoyable?” Castiel asks.

“Felt great,” Dean replies. Castiel is astute enough to realize that’s not quite an answer to his question. He considers asking again, but then Dean continues.

“Feels weird to not return the favor, though.”

Cas glances away. He knows that Dean desires him, and would want to make him feel the same way he made Dean feel, but try as he might Castiel can’t get comfortable to the idea of anyone—even Dean—touching him in such a manner.

“I’m sorry I don’t want. . .” Castiel starts, but Dean places a light kiss to his forehead and interrupts him.

“I know,” Dean says, and kisses the top of his head again. “Nothing to be sorry for, Cas. Just feels weird.”

Castiel nods and looks down at Dean’s stomach and realizes they should probably clean up a little before going to sleep.

“I’ll be back,” Cas promises, and goes into the bathroom to wet a cloth.

When he returns, Dean has his eyes closed and there’s a smile resting on his face. Dean’s eyes flutter open when Castiel presses the cloth to Dean’s stomach. Dean holds eye contact the entire time Castiel cleans up, and Castiel realizes this feels more intimate than when Dean was thrusting into his hand.

Castiel knows that not all humans use sexual intercourse as a means of emotional bonding, but he always thought if he participated in sexual activity it would be solely for the intimacy. He doesn’t regret what he just did with Dean, and he even liked it, but he can’t say that it was as intimate as he had hoped. He doesn’t want to say something, though, because he’s afraid of how Dean will take the confession. He doesn’t want Dean to blame himself for something that requires no guilt or blame.

Castiel is drawn out of his thoughts by a tap to his shoulder. Dean gives him a concerned look.

“You still here?”

Castiel nods and takes one of Dean’s hands in his own for reassurance. “I was just thinking.”

“About?” Dean prompts.

Castiel frowns — he’s not sure how to voice what’s running through his head in a way that will make sense to Dean. He wants to pick his words carefully. “While I enjoy being the one to bring you pleasure and I would like to do so again in the future, it wasn’t as . . . intimate as I thought it would be. It felt less so than many other things in our relationship.”

Dean drums an absent-minded rhythm. on the back of Castiel’s hand.

“Okay,” Dean says, “Okay. So what do we do that is uh, intimate to you?”

Castiel rests his head against Dean’s shoulder. “I suppose it’s the way of knowing each. For eons I was connected to my heavenly brothers, but there was a lack of innate knowledge about them, as individuals. I’m not sure I even really felt it until I was human. It’s hard to pinpoint what makes me feel that way, exactly. It’s being here like this with you. The way you remember how I like my coffee and fix it for me in the mornings, or when you buy the citrus soap I like.”

Dean blinks. “So it’s. . . when I pay attention?”

Castiel considers. “Perhaps a bit of a simplification, but yes, more or less.”

Dean smiles and there’s a spark in his eyes, which Castiel recognizes as the look Dean gets when he has an idea. He’s about to ask Dean about it, but then Dean yawns and Castiel realizes how tired they both are. He kisses Dean goodnight instead of inquiring about Dean’s curious expression, but he makes a mental note to ask about it in the morning.

* * *

 

Castiel wakes to find the other side of the bed cold. He smells something delicious coming from the kitchen, though, so he gets up and ties one of the robes Dean is so fond of around his frame and heads out to find the source of the scent. He’s not surprised to find Dean by the stove, humming something that Castiel can’t quite place and flipping a blueberry pancake — Castiel’s newest favorite. Having only been human for a few months, Castiel hasn’t had the opportunity to try that many different foods yet, but so far blueberry pancakes have definitely topped the list. Of course Dean would remember.

Dean notices Castiel in the doorway and chuckles. “Coffee’s on the table.”

Castiel picks up the mug and takes a long sip. It’s perfect, with a lot of milk and just a hint of sugar. Castiel remembers the conversation from the previous night and can’t fight a fond smile. Dean beams back at him for a moment, then coughs.

“Thought we could go for a walk? ”Dean ventures.

That explains why Dean’s poured the coffee into a travel mug instead of the usual plain ones in the bunker’s cabinets. He’s not sure what Dean has planned, but he’s fine with being surprised. He glances down at his boxers and robe.

“That sounds nice, but I should change first. Where’s Sam?”

“Still conked out. Probably will be for awhile. I’ll leave him some pancakes while we’re gone.”

Dean packs their food while Castiel gets dressed. Castiel lets Dean lead the way once they set off, since the hunter clearly has something in mind. Castiel knows there’s a stream not too far from the bunker, so he’s not surprised when Dean leads them in that direction. After about half a mile following the stream, the rocky bank gives way to a lush meadow scattered with thick oak trees. They’re not that far from the main road, but the clearing still feels secluded and Castiel smiles when he sees a frog hopping towards the water.

“Thought you’d like it,” Dean says. “C’mon, don’t want the food to get cold.”

Dean settles against one of the larger oak trees, then pulls Castiel down the ground with him. The sudden movement causes Castiel to stumble a little and he ends up rolling into the grass. He huffs indignantly, but Dean just tickles his side until he breaks and finally laughs. Dean finally relents and Castiel makes himself comfortable and rests against Dean’s knee.

The flimsy paper plates make eating the pancakes a messy challenge, but Castiel finds it hard to mind when Dean’s cooking is as good as it is. After they’re done eating, they trade a lingering syrup-soaked kiss and Dean runs his fingers through Castiel’s hair before they break apart.

“Thank you,” Castiel says, his head against Dean’s chest.

“Yeah, well. . . “Dean trails off. “I can’t say I completely understood everything you said, about intimacy and all that. You know I don’t always do the chick-flick moments, but. . . I get the gist, and I want that too.”

Castiel hums in acknowledgment. “I know.”

“Guess we’re still figuring out as we go, huh?”

Castiel likes that idea, but even more he likes how easily the “we” slips from Dean’s lips now, an unspoken promise that they’re in it for, as Dean would say, “the long haul”. Castiel remembers how much he really did enjoy watching Dean last night, rapt and open, and how Dean then planned this morning for them. It might not be the same language of affection that other relationships have, but Castiel knows they can make it work. Intimacy may take different form for both of them, but it turns out they want the same thing after all.

 

 

 

 


End file.
